


Overture

by Maverick



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maverick/pseuds/Maverick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonata de Rodney</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "Face the Music"
> 
> Written for the mcshep_match challenge.

Awesome cover by **Pollitt**

 __ **OVERTURE:**  
  
1\. an initiative toward agreement or action: PROPOSAL  
2\. the orchestral introduction to a musical dramatic work 

 

 _PRELUDE:_  
  
John’s never really liked the phone much. He prefers to see a person when he’s talking to them. It makes measuring their bullshit that much easier. But being back on Earth -- he refuses to call it home -- he finds himself talking on the phone to Rodney several times a day. They talk at work -- John in his crappy office that smells like mothballs and Rodney in his huge lab in Nevada. And they continue when they go back to their respective residences at night.  
  
They talk about everything and nothing. They argue about movies and which one of Charlie’s Angels was hotter. Oddly enough with Rodney’s penchant for blondes, his favorite isn’t Farrah Fawcett’s Jill, but rather Kate Jackson’s Sabrina. Apparently smart trumps hair color in Rodney’s world. And of course, John’s favorite is Jaclyn Smith’s Kelly and not just because she drove a mustang.  
  
It’s strange, but they don’t talk about Atlantis. John can tell some days that Rodney wants to, but John can’t face it yet. It’s still too raw. He hasn’t had the time to bury it deep enough inside him so that it won’t rise to the surface and choke him.  
  
But one night, after they finished dissecting the advantages and disadvantages of TIE Fighters vs. X-wings, John can tell Rodney can't face the silence any longer. It was only a matter of time.  
  
And then Rodney's talking. “You know, I’ve only ever felt this lost once before.”  
  
"When?" John asks, knowing he owes Rodney at least that much.  
  
The words tumble off Rodney's tongue. “I played piano. I was quite good. Or so I thought. Technically proficient but lacking passion, my teacher informed me."  
  
John settles the phone at his ear and takes a swig of his beer. A McKay that isn't all about science isn't easy to picture. "How old were you?"  
  
"Twelve. So, I gave it up. Stopped playing. Made my parents sell the piano."  
  
"Twelve?" John repeats. Who the hell had passion at twelve?  
  
Rodney continues. “And to this day, a part of me still misses it. My fingers ache to play. So I know I’ll learn to live with it.” He pauses like he has to steel himself to get the words out. “Live _without_ Atlantis. Just like I learned to live without music, but I don’t want to, you know? I really don't _want_ to.”  
  
And John does know. So he shares the story of his black mark. He tells Rodney more than he’s told anyone else. He tells him that even knowing the consequences, he’d do it all again, he’d make the same choice, that his only regret was that he didn't get there in time.  
  
And Rodney, who for all his tactless blunders with most people has always shown a sort of grace with John, comes through again. “Of course you would. That’s why I go out with you on missions. Do you think I'd trust my very important brain to someone who wouldn't risk _everything_ to bring his teammates home? No, I would not. In case you've forgotten, I'm _much_ smarter than that.”  
  
John can literally feel the laughter bubble up inside of him and burst forth like a new dawn breaking because Rodney's always going to be _Rodney_ , no matter what galaxy they're in and there's a warped kind of comfort in that.  
  
Rodney sighs loudly. "You're not laughing at me are you? Because that would be..."  
  
John cuts him off, the laughter having made him a little breathless. "No McKay, I'm not laughing at you. Just happy that I've still got you doing your level best to drive me crazy."  
  
"Well, it's not like _that's_ much of a leap for you there, Colonel. Besides, I promised Ronon and Teyla I'd look out for you."  
  
John almost gasps at that. He knows that Rodney said his own goodbyes to Teyla and Ronon, but it never occurred to him that he'd be a part of it as well. Of course, that's pretty dumb because he made similar promises about Rodney to both of them. But still. "Look out for me?"  
  
Rodney snorts. "Yes, apparently _that's_ what teammates do. You know when they're not busy beating each other with sticks, mocking each other's childhood traumas, or making things go boom." He pauses for a moment and his voice gets almost quiet. "That's what families do."  
  
When John hangs up that night, he’s struck by Rodney’s words.  
  
 _Team._ _Family_.  
  
For the first time in a long time, John has a home. And it’s not just Atlantis. It’s the people too. It’s Ronon and Teyla in a galaxy far, far away. It’s Carson and Elizabeth, both close but lost in their own sorrow. And it’s Rodney. Rodney who’s the only one of them brave enough to admit to and rail against what they’ve lost.  
  
For some reason that makes John feel better. He's not _alone_. Rodney's got his six. Instinctively, he knows they'll make it back to Atlantis. He feels it down to his bones. 

~*~*~*~ 

  
_EXPOSITION:_  
  
The idea comes to him the second night back on Atlantis. He’s happy and he’s _home_ so anything is possible. It’s crazy, he knows it. Of course, crazy is pretty damn relative to someone who just defeated a bunch of sentient robots with trickery and deceit. There’s no way he could get approval to bring a grand piano to the Pegasus galaxy. Well, he probably could, as the SGC is used to strange requests by now. But John knows he couldn't do it without Rodney finding out and that’s sort of the point of this whole exercise. He knows it will take time and a hell of a lot of planning, but in the end he thinks it will be worth it. And more importantly, he _wants_ to do it.  
  
The abstract idea doesn’t become a full blown plan until after they almost lose Rodney to the Ancient ascension machine. All he could think of as he stood there at the end of Rodney’s hospital bed was that he’d never gotten the chance to say thank you to Rodney for getting him through their exile on Earth. He knows that they don't do that, they don't say thank you. They just trade saving each other lives like some cosmic game of tag. But their time on Earth was different. More personal somehow. And John really needs Rodney to know _that_ , needs him to know that he really would have gone crazy without him.  
  
Oddly enough, it is extremely easy to enlist help in "Operation Piano Man" as John has started to call it. It seems McKay really does have a legion of fans on his staff even if his interpersonal skills kinda suck. Zelenka is the first on board. He puts in a request for a specific scientist, a Dr. Meyers, who’s a whiz at astral projections or something, but more importantly restores, builds, and tunes pianos in his spare time.  
  
And with Radek’s help, the rest of the science departments falls in to line, making requests for “equipment” needed to fulfill the project. He doesn't ask how they manage to get a grand piano's worth of wood shipped across two galaxies under the guise of invaluable science equipment, and quite frankly, he's not sure he wants to know. John's always known that the scientists on Atlantis -- from Rodney on down -- are the best and the brightest around and that means they can outmaneuver and outplay the U.S. Military when need be. John finds a comfort in that even if he'd never admit it to his superiors. With everything set, now all they have left to do is wait, and that just might be the hardest part.  
  
Of course Rodney proves John wrong. Waiting turns out to be easy compared to keeping "OPM" a secret from Rodney. During John's career in the military, he's learned a thing or two about stealth operations. Long before he flew a ship with a cloaking shield, he’d been trained to hide in plain sight. What he didn’t count on is that for as blustering and self-involved as Rodney is, he can ferret out a plan quicker than anyone. John doesn’t know if it’s because McKay lives in a perpetual state of paranoia or just sheer dumb luck that has the other man walking up to him the minute John starts talking about the room he's found to build the piano in, how long it will take to build, or any other number of things OPM related. It's almost comical how often it happens.  
  
"Seriously, what are you up to?" Rodney asks as he blocks John's path on the way out of Zelenka's lab.  
  
John cocks an eyebrow. "Well, first I thought I'd shower, then grab a sandwich before our mission brief this afternoon. What's up with you?"  
  
Rodney crosses his arms against his chest. "That's not what I meant. Why are you down here now? You knew I'd be running diagnostics in the control room all morning."  
  
John has to stop himself from smiling at Rodney's petulant tone. He gets a kick out of how proprietary Rodney is about him. If John's going to work with someone in the science department, Rodney always wants it to be with him. Of course goading Rodney is one of John's favorite pastimes. "Well contrary to what you might think, you're not the only scientist around these parts." He lets himself smirk a bit as he knows Rodney will expect it. "I've been helping Radek with one of his projects." What can he say, sometimes the truth is the very best lie.  
  
"Project? What project?"  
  
Time for a little misdirection. John looks over at Radek cluing him in to play along. "Well schucks, McKay. You found me out. Zelenka's been giving me tips on how to kick your ass even more quickly at chess."  
  
Radek walks over to them. "Yes, yes, Rodney, it's true. Not that Colonel needs my help as you are just not that much of challenge for either of us."  
  
With that jib, there's no way that Rodney won't take the bait, so soon he's calling out both Radek and John to chess duels after dinner, his inquiry about John's presence in Radek's lab long forgotten. Zelenka winks knowingly as John herds Rodney out of the lab to grab some lunch. They've gotten away with it this time, but he knows they won't always be that lucky.  
  
With so much time and effort invested, John decides not to take any chances, so he starts to use Ronon and Teyla as his wingmen. He has Ronon drag McKay down to the gym to train or has Teyla bring him tea and cookies when he needs to coordinate anything OPM related. And if Rodney smiles through his bluster at all the attention, at really feeling like part of the team, then that's just a much deserved bonus in John's mind. 

~*~*~*~  
  


_DEVELOPMENT:_  
  
It takes a little over two months for all the parts to arrive on the Daedalus and, in some cases through, the wormhole, so when John sees the crates scattered all around the empty room, it almost feels like Christmas. Of course it takes even longer to carefully assemble the piano from the ground up and John has a hard time keeping his excitement in check. There's something almost spiritual about watching dissonant pieces of metal, wood and wire latched and twined together to form something so delicate and impressive as a piano.  
  
Everyone works together in companionable silence, each doing what they can to bring this dream to life. The care in which Ronon fits the legs on the base surprises John almost as much as it doesn't. The way Radek sands and varnishes the wood, coaxing it into perfect smoothness with endearments in Czech makes him smile. And when the piano is finally assembled and ready to be tuned, John's almost struck dumb by Teyla's reverence as she touches the keys for Meyers. Her feelings echo his own as her pitch perfect voice fills the room with joy and wonder.  
  
And then it's ready and John's more nervous and excited then he's been since his first solo flight. It's decided that he'll present Rodney with the piano alone because no one really knows what Rodney's reaction will be. Okay, John makes the decision himself. Rodney trusted him enough to tell him his most painful memory and John's going to do his best to honor that gift. He _wants_ Rodney to get his music back, but he knows that's not his call to make. It might still be too painful for him and he won't risk putting Rodney on the spot like that in front of all of them. Plus if John is honest with himself, he wants Rodney's reaction -- whatever it might be -- to be his alone. 

  
~*~*~*~  


  
_CODA:_  
  
So on the day of the reveal, John maneuvers Rodney down the hall, the other man bitching about the early hour, the long walk, and the fact that he only had time for one cup of coffee. Rodney's babbling cacophony is just music enough to John's ears to quell the nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He reminds himself again that no matter what, Rodney will always be _Rodney_.  
  
When they enter through the archway to what John thinks might have been some sort of music hall, Rodney stops short, his mouth, mid-rant, suddenly silent.  
  
John steps up next to him, lets his hand graze across Rodney's shoulder and he walks them further into the room. "It's for you. We shipped it here in pieces. And very carefully put it back together again. A whole bunch of people thought maybe it was time for you to have a piano again." For an explanation, John knows it's probably pretty lame, but it gets the job done.  
  
“Why? I haven’t played in years," Rodney says, his voice as quiet at John's ever heard it.  
  
Then John can see Rodney's defenses going up. He doesn't blame him. It's a huge surprise.  
  
Rodney turns and glares at John. “You know this.”  
  
And John does know. He knows what it cost Rodney to share his deepest hurt with John. It’s why he started on the quest in the first place. He might not be good with talking about feelings, but he can do this. He will do this. “We got Atlantis back, didn’t we? Against all odds, we got her back. I just thought there’s no reason you can’t have your music back as well.”  
  
“I just. I’m not any good. Technically proficient but lacking passion,” Rodney singsongs bitterly, his arms wound tight against his chest.  
  
John grasps Rodney by his shoulders and makes him meet his eyes. “First off, that’s bullshit. You don’t do anything without passion McKay, from bitching about walking long distance from the gate to whale watching. Second, since I’ve known you, you’ve never let _anyone’s_ criticism of you or your abilities stop you, so why are you letting some asshole have that control over you about this?”  
  
It’s a few moments before Rodney says anything. John can feel the muscles of Rodney’s shoulders tighten under his hands. He looks at John’s eyes, then looks away. “Because I wanted it more than anything else.”  
  
John’s chest aches from the misery on Rodney’s face. He knows he’d feel the same way if someone told him he couldn’t fly. His fingers begin to massage Rodney’s shoulders, in comfort or encouragement, he’s not sure. “So take it back. Even if you suck -- which I highly doubt by the way -- take it back.”  
  
“It’s not that simple.”  
  
John smiles, a real one. “Sure it is. Not everything has to be life or death. But if you want, I can have Ronon come in here and threaten you with his gun or better still with more training sessions."  
  
Rodney glares at him. "So you were behind that as well? I will make you pay for that."  
  
John smirks at him. "It really didn't take a lot of convincing to get Ronon to agree to kick your ass a couple of times a week."  
  
"Very funny." Rodney's expression shifts from annoyed amusement to amazed discovery a little too quickly for John's comfort. He looks at John like he's some equation he's getting close to solving. "How long?"  
  
John cocks an eyebrow and plays coy. "How long did it take me to convince him?"  
  
Rodney shakes his head. "No. How long have you been planning this?"  
  
Well that was even quicker than he expected. Taking a deep breath, John meets his eyes again, his hands tightening their grip on Rodney's shoulders. "Since we got Atlantis back. But I didn't start enlisting everyone else's help until after..." He trails off and clears his throat. "Until after we almost lost you."  
  
John knows his expression must reveal everything because he watches the realization dawn across Rodney's face. It feels like a freefall because everything could crash and burn around him if Rodney doesn't feel the same way. But John knew the risks going in.  
  
Rodney goes silent, stepping forward until he's flush against John's body, his arms wrapping tight around John's shoulders. "You," he says like that explains it all.  
  
And maybe it does because John's not really sure who makes the first move, but soon they are kissing and Rodney's tongue is doing things in John's mouth that have to defy at least a couple laws of physics. John's never backed down from a Rodney-shaped dare, so he gives as good as he gets and neither one of them come up for air for a very, very long time.  
  
When they do finally do break apart, they seem incapable of _not_ touching. John's hand seems to have taken up residence down the back of Rodney's shirt and Rodney's fingers are gripping his biceps and John's never felt more alive in his life. He knows he should be surprised by how right it feels, how inevitable, but he isn't because just like back on Earth, Rodney's got his six. And he's not alone.  
  
"You," Rodney says again, kissing John's jaw, letting his hand card through John's hair. "I can't believe you did this for me."  
  
"Apparently, that's what families do," John says, smiling with kiss wet lips.  
  
Rodney leans in, grinning against John's neck. "You."  
  
John _has_ to kiss him again for that because no one has said so much to him with one little word. Pulling away, John runs his thumb over Rodney’s lips. It’s not why he did this. Okay, it’s not the only reason he did this, but he’d hoped. He let himself hope, and that’s its own kind of victory. He pulls Rodney into a tight hug before leading him over to the piano bench. “Come on, McKay. Time to face the music.”  
  
Rodney groans and thwaps him on his head. “It’s good to know, nothing can ever stop your annoying pun habit.”  
  
John shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say. It’s a gift.”  
  
Rodney laughs and that’s another kind of music right there. John really wants to stay and hear Rodney play, but this isn’t about him and there were no conditions attached to this gift. “You want me to go, so you can play in peace?”  
  
Rodney reaches out and grabs John’s hand, squeezing it tight. “No. Stay.”  
  
John knows he’s grinning like a loon.  
  
Rodney motions him to come sit on the bench with him, all the while flexing his fingers. He looks almost as scared as when he’s facing down the Wraith. But underneath that fear, John can see the bravery too. Rodney’s like one of those 3-D pictures -- he looks one dimensional until your eyes adjust and then you’re amazed at the details and delights hidden just beneath the surface.  
  
Sitting down on the bench next to Rodney, John reaches out, curving his hand around Rodney’s knee. He leans in, lets his lips graze against Rodney’s temple because he can now. “Play for me." He pauses and rubs his nose against Rodney's hair. "No. Better still, play for _yourself_.”  
  
And Rodney does.  
  
John watches mesmerized as Rodney’s fingers dance across the keys as sure and true as McKay is with any piece of machinery. Even after all these years, he can tell that Rodney _is_ technically proficient, but John can feel the emotion of the melody to his very soul.  
  
And Rodney’s smile... Rodney’s smile is incandescent and infectious.  
  
After meeting that smile with one of his own, John closes his eyes, letting the music wash over him -- each note as elemental as air, as fierce as fire. It feels like freedom and if he didn’t know any better, he would swear that he was flying. 


End file.
